


The Left-Hand Path

by Caffinated_Story



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Gen, Spot the country music references, jumping right into this fandom with a dose of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinated_Story/pseuds/Caffinated_Story
Summary: From renowned gun-slinger to a useless patient, because there's s fine line between losing a battle and losing the war.A short fic centered around how McCree might have lost his arm.





	1. Phases and Stages

He's aware of the first blast – it narrowly misses him as he dodges out of sight.  
The ground shakes and he feels the tremors vibrate thought every bone in his body.

The second one makes his head dizzy and his feet wobble.

Third one he barely notices, his hearing disappears and his vision starts to blur and blacken at the edges.

He feels the fourth one.  
It burns and tears at his body till he's sure something been snapped.  
Snapped and torn off – like a rope in rough weather.

Then there's nothing.

Just blackness and silence.

Slowly some light emerges, and Jesse hopes it's Mercy and not an angel of god – although he'll take either option right now.

He blinks.  
Once.  
Twice.

It's all white.

He'd shake his head, but it doesn't seem to want to listen.

'All right' he thinks to himself. 'Time to try to move'.

Nothing.

Jesse frowns – or thinks he frowns – and tries again.

Still nothing.

A slow sense of panic starts creeping over him.  
Move.

He has to move.

“Be still,” he hears a voice somewhere very far in the distance.

It might be Reyes. It might be Morrison. Perhaps it's Reinhardt, or it might be someone else.  
Jesse's not sure.  
But he listens.

The awful burning sensation is hard to ignore.  
Really hard to ignore.

Like pins and needles jammed deep inside his arm, slowly digging deeper and deeper.

“Lie still,” the voice commands and Jesse tries to focus his eyes and catch a cimplse of anything else but white.

Jesse wants to retort, but his mouth won't listen either.  
Darkness is quick to drag him back down.

But the pins and needles don't end.

“How you feeling?”

Jesse tries to place the voice to a face, but it's still all white.

“Dunno...” he mumbles.

“Don't know won't cut it kid,” the voice replies and now Jesse now it's got to be Reyes.

“Am I on fire?” he asks.

“No,” Reyes replies sternly.

“Feels like it,” Jesse grumbles. 

“Yeah. I'm not surprised...”

“Hey, can I ask a question?”

“Fire away Kid...” Reyes replies.

“Am... am I missing something?”

Reyes doesn’t reply, but Jesse can hear him move about the room.

Ceiling – he blinks and realises it's the ceiling that's so blindingly white.  
He grits his teeth and tries to turn his head to the side.

It hurts.  
A lot.  
But not as much as his left arm.

Reyes sits next to him, and Jesse's not sure he's ever seen the man so grim.

“You're looking like the fucking reaper came by or something,” Jesse tries to laugh, but his ribs hurt too much for that.

“He probably did...” Reyes grumbles.  
“Can you move anything?” he asks after a while.

“Think so...” Jesse replies and tries to focus on moving his right foot first.

“Good,” Reyes nods.

“Think I feel my left one too,” Jesse laughs dryly. 

“I see some toe wriggling,” Reyes almost cracks a smile.

“Sweet,” Jesse smiles and focuses on moving his right arm. It's shaky and it feels like it's been weighed down by lead.  
But it moves.

“Good,” Reyes says once more.

“Now for the left one,” Jesse smiles.

But his left arm won't move.  
It's just pins, needles and burning pain.

“Weird...” he muttered and tries again.

“Leave it,” Reyes says and Jesse feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Why can't I move it?”

“You lost it.” Reyes' words are blunt and to the point.  
There’s no sugar coating it or avoiding it.  
Blunt and straight to the point – as always.

“What?” Jesse heard him, but refuses to believe it.

“In the explosion. Came right off.”

“I... lost an arm?” Jesse feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs.  
“You found it again though? Right? Mercy's gonna patch it up again, right?”

The look in Reyes' eyes is all but what he wanted to see.

“But...” Jesse swallows the lump in his throat and tries again. He can't have lost an arm.  
It's not possible.  
It hurts!  
The arm hurts!  
It has to be there!

“Jesse...”

Reyes' voice is calm with a hint of sadness to it, and that's the last straw.

Reyes' called him by his name.  
Not Kid or 'Idiot' or 'punk'...  
Reyes' called him by his name.

Jesse can't stop the tears, nor can he muster to wipe them away either.

“Jesse,” Reyes tries again, this time with a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  
“It's going to be okay... We'll get you a new one. A better one. You won't miss the old one.”

“I don't want a new arm,” Jesse sobs. “It's still there. It's gotta be!”

The pins and needles won't stop. And for each time he tries to move his left arm, it sensation just gets stronger.

It has to be there. Jesse won't accept anything else.

A dream.  
A bad dream.  
A really bad nightmare. That's what this is he tells himself.

But Reyes never lies.  
Not about these things.  
And when Reyes pull him up and hug him, Jesse's whole world goes crashing down all over again.

It's real.  
It's real and it hurts.

He tries to move his head to the left.  
He doesn't want to see.  
But he has to.

“Mercy did what she could,” Reyes whispers gently and Jesse catches a glimpse of the remains of his left arm all wrapped up in bandages.  
“I'll make sure you get the best cybernetics in the world,” Reyes promises, and Jesse doesn't doubt those words.

“It hurts...” he whimpers weakly and buries his face in Reyes' coat.

“Yeah...” Reyes replies. “It's going to do that for a while.”

“Forever?” Jesse asks.

“Maybe...”

Jesse closes his eyes and just lets his body go limp.

Failure.  
That's what he is.  
Useless failure.

What if he can't hold a gun any more?  
The question spins around his mind as Reyes gently props him up with several pillows.

He's vaguely aware Reyes asks him is he's hungry, but his mind can't focus on replying.

He tries to flex his right hand.  
It hurts too, but it's a different kind of pain – less burning and screaming and more just a dull ache.  
Truth be told he'd be happier if it was his right hand that was missing.

Jesse grits his teeth and wonders if he's still got any hope being part of Blackwatch now.

Will they even have a use for him when he's lost his dominant hand? - he asks himself that question over and over, completely ignoring Reyes' questions.

“Kid,” Reyes says, a little louder this time and Jesse snaps out of his trance.

“Wha?”

“I asked if you needed anything?”

“My arm?” Jesse replies and frowns.

“Besides that,” Reyes sighs.

“A beer?”

“Doctor's orders are no alcohol until you're off the morphine,” Reyes gives him a sympathetic look.

“Aww,” Jesse frowns deeper. “A smoke then?”

“Not allowed either. Will make your healing time longer.”

“What am I allowed then?”

“Ice cream?” Reyes offers.

“You know what... hit me with it all. I'll cry my eyes out over anything right now anyway,” Jesse sighs and leans into the pillows in defeat.

“It's going to be all right. We can modify your gun, make it work better for your new arm.”

“Nah,” Jesse sighs and stares up at the ceiling. “I'll just... quit.”

“Uh,” Reyes pauses and gives him a concerned look. “Your contract is binding you know. I'm not letting you walk out of here a free man yet.”

“Heh,” Jesse laughs dryly. “And here I thought I was off the hook.”

“Never Kid... Never,” Reyes smirks and then ruffles his hair. “You signed that contract so you can kiss your freedom ideas goodbye. You work for me. Two arms, one arm or no arms. You still have years of service ahead of you.”

“Thanks,” Jesse smiles, feeling a little bit less of a failure. 

“And your day of free sympathy ends when you stand on your own two feet,” Reyes warns, and Jesse manages a genuine laugh.

“Never change Reyes, promise me that will ya?”

“I'll try, but not for you,” Reyes chuckles.

“Won't ask for more,” Jesse sighs.  
His 'ghost' arm keeps burning and it feels like his palm could use a good scratch.

'Weird' he thinks to himself as he tries to scratch where it feels like his left arm actually is.  
'Really weird' he grimaces as the itching sensation slightly fades.

With a deep sigh Jesse closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind.

He doesn't want to be useless.  
And hell if he'll let himself become it either.

With a deep sigh Jesse closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind.

He doesn't want to be useless.  
And hell if he'll let himself become it either.

He valued freedom too highly to let anything come between it and him.

If he had to jump onwards on one lag to achieve it, he'd fucking do it.

Jesse let out a tired laugh as he lets sleep drag him down gently.

He'd prove them all wrong.  
He's gonna be useful.  
More so than ever.

The best gun-slinger Blackwatch, or Overwatch, would ever know.

'Yeah' he smiled to himself as he tried to ignore the pins and needles from the nerves of his severed arm.

The best.  
The absolute best.


	2. Both Sides Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse slowly comes to terms with his new limb and the implications loosing his dominat hand has.

“How are you holding up?” Mercy asks as Jesse sits on the rooftop, legs swung over the side as he stares at his new arm.

“Is it supposed to still hurt?” Jesse asks and flexes his mechanical fingers.

“Nerve damage is hard to repair, it might eventually fade as you get used to your new arm, but I can not give you a time frame for when that happens. Everyone is different in these cases,” Mercy smiles and takes a seat next to him.

“Don't wanna be different...” Jesse mutters and glares at his mechanical arm.

“You're in the wrong organisation then,” Mercy smiles softly.

“Yeah all right you've got a point,” Jesse smiles a little lopsidedly. “Just wish I'd lost my right hand and not the left, you know?” he frowns.  
“I'd feel less like a can of old beans then.”

“You still have your right hand,” Mercy reminds him and place her hand on his mechanical arm.

Jesse pauses and stares. If he squints he can imagine the warmth from her hand to his and for a brief moment the pins and needles stop.

“Our bodies can adapt to the most wonderful and magnificent changes,” Mercy smiles. “Humans have been cheating death for centuries, and every day we make more head way to become better, stronger and more adapted to our surroundings.”

“I ain't adapting at all,” Jesse grimaces.

“Yes you are,” Mercy laughs and offers him a warm smile. “It takes most people days to learn how to grip a glass with their new limb, you mastered that in less than a day!”

“Well ya know,” Jesse shrugs. “I really wanted that beer...”

“No alcohol till your stump has fully healed,” Mercy momentarily gives him a glare that sends chills down his spine.  
The angel of Mercy know hos to channel her inner harbinger of death, and Jesse makes a mental note to not mention he's already broken several of her hospital 'rules'.  
Like smoking out the window and punching things with his new arm.

“I know I know. I was just jokin',” Jesse tries to crack a smile, but it falls a little short of genuine. 

Silence fills the air and for a moment Jesse finds it comforting.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“For what?” Mercy asks.

“Savin' me...”

“That's my job,” she replies and laughs.

“Still,” he shrugs and stares out over the rooftops. “I'm grateful...”

“Just keep living, that is all I ask in return. That you live and keep fighting for good in this world.”

“Never though I'd hear a lovely lady ask me for such grand things,” Jesse cracks a smile and flexes his fingers on his left hand, watching the metal move to his bidding.

“You are part of something big now Jesse. Something grand. Something that can help you achieve even greater things,” Mercy says and her voice is so soft and soothing Jesse wishes to bottle it and keep it close to his heart.

“Well I started from the bottom, so I can only go up, can't I?” he laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head with his right hand.

“You can go all the way up,” Mercy replies. “You have the skills and the brains to go very far here,” she adds and Jesse really hopes his tan helps hide his growing blush.

“Ah, that's awfully sweet of ya...” he coughs and tries not to look too awkward. Compliments still seem too alien to him, especially when given by genuinely good people.

“I have a good judge of character,” Mercy winks.

“Don't doubt it. What is is Reinhardt calls ya... Val-something?”

“Valkyrie,” Mercy smiles.

“Right...” Jesse chuckles and turns his attention back to the rooftops.

“Gabriel said he would fix your gun for you,” Mercy says after a while.  
“Make it easier to hold with your new hand.”

“Just give me a slingshot and throw me to the coyotes,” Jesse grimaces. 

“We would never do such a thing,” Mercy looks genuinely surprised at his suggestion.

“Standard procedure for useless free-loaders,” Jesse shrugs.

“Everyone here earns their keep,”

“I sure as hell ain't earning mine,” Jesse's frown deepens.  
“Not any more,” he adds with a sigh.

“Past is in the past and the future holds many wonders,” Mercy offers and hums softly. “There are so many things you can do and even more things you can learn to do.”

“Yeah I'm sure Reyes' could use a paper-pusher,” Jesse huffs.

“If you do not cease reopening your wound by battling brick walls that will be the least of your worries,” Mercy warns and Jesse cringes. “And you would end up pushing Gabriel's buttons if you let yourself become a secretary,” she adds with a light laugh.

“Can't hide from your eyes can I?”

“You can try,” Mercy laughs. “But I'm afraid after stitching you up as many times as I have, I know a few things about you that you may not know yourself.”

“Can I speak plainly to you?” Jesse asks softly, voice a shaky whisper.

“Of course you can,”

“Am... am I wanted?” Jesse regrets asking but it's too late now. 

“I believe Reyes and Winston erased your criminal record a while back...” Mercy taps her chin with one finger and looks thoughtful for a moment.

“No. Not like that,” Jesse shakes his head. “I mean... Wanted. Here? At Overwatch? Or Blackwatch? Am I still good for something or is it time to send me to the glue factory?”

“Oh!” Mercy looks horrified for a moment. “Not at all! You are very important here!”

“Would be best,” Jesse mutters, feeling more and more like a race horse with a broken foot.

“Nonsense,” Mercy shakes her head. “You have a purpose here. With us!”

“Sure. The good the bad and the ugly cripple.”

“Jesse,” Mercy glares. 

“You're the good, if that's what you wanted to know,” Jesse shrugs.

“No,” Mercy sighs. “You can't keep thinking like that. You'll find a way around this little set back.”

“Little?” Jesse scoffs.

“Of course,” Mercy nods. “Will you really let yourself be defeated so easily?”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Jesse grimaces. 

“Just promise me not to do anything rash.” Mercy looks genuinely concerned. “It would be far too peaceful here without you. And not the good kind of peace.”

“Will try,” Jesse winks, but makes no promises.  
Not this time around.

\----------

“What's this?” Jesse asks, eyeing the brown cardboard box suspiciously.

“A little gift from Santa I'd assume,” Winston laughs.

“Yeah right Winston, it's a warm day in hell when that happens. You know Santa only gives me coal,” Jesse retorts, but can't help but crack a smile.

“Maybe Santa feels extra generous this year then,” Winston chuckles.

“Great. Two sacks of coal then?” Jesse cocks one eyebrow and adjusts his hat, with his luck this is just another bad thing waiting to happen to him.

“Just open it,” Winston rolls his eyes.

“Heh,” Jesse smiles as he pries the box open, pausing as something metallic glints up at him.  
“The hell?” he mutters in disbelief, picking-up the shiny new gun and staring at it with marvel.

“Reyes' said you should have a gun tailored to your new arm, but I think it won't hurt you trying to use your right for a while,” Winston laughs and Jesse makes a mental note to buy Winston a crate of bananas and peanut butter. 

“You've gotta be joking,” Jesse whispers, holding the gun up for inspection. “Where the hell did you get this?”

“I have my sources,” Winston hums.

“Shit,” Jesse lets out a low whisper as he runs his fingers over the barrel. “This is amazing.”

“Figured it would fit you, uh, image,” Winston chuckles.

“It's perfect,” Jesse smiles. “Has it got a name?”

“Yes. I believe it's 'Peacekeeper'”

“A gun? As a Peacekeeper?” Jesse snorts at the idea.

“It's what I was told,” Winston shrugs.

“Hrm...” Jesse ponders changing the name, but decides against it. That might be bad luck – and God knows he's had enough of that.  
“Mind if I just, uh, go try it out?”

“Don't knock yourself out too hard,” Winston winks and flashes him a toothy smile.

Jesse can't run fast enough.

His hand shakes as he holds the gun, his right hand not properly accustomed to being the one doing the aiming.  
'So weird' Jesse thinks to himself as he tries to line up the shot.

Pulling the trigger is easy enough, but the bullet miss the mark by a few centimeters.

“Fuck,” Jesse swears and glares at the gun as if him missing is to do with the gun.

He tries again.  
Another line up, another shot, another miss.

Jesse frowns and grits his teeth.  
Once more he tells himself.

And again.  
And again.  
And again.

Until all his rounds are used up and his ears ringing from the noise.

“Struggling?” Reyes' voice sounds from behind and Jesse almost drops his gun.

“Nah. Just need a strong whisky,” he laughs.

“Hardly, that will make you shake more,” Reyes smirks.

“Come on, you know me. Beer for my horses and whisky for the rest of us,” Jesse laughs and shifts the gun over to his left hand, hating how he can't feel the cold metal against his skin.  
Metal on metal never really felt right.

“Explains a lot about you really,” Reyes crosses his arms. “Come on, get back to it. I can't have a useless gun-slinger on my team.”

“I'll be a fucking tornado for ya,” Jesse mumbles.

“Language,” Reyes warns coolly. 

“Oh Gee whilly Whizz, Pardon my potty mouth Sir,” Jesse forces a smile as he reloads his gun. “What I was tryin' to say was that I will kick up a shit storm when needed.”

Reyes almost cracks a smile, and Jesse knows he's off the hook for now.

His hand still shakes, and the first bullet misses it's mark by some millimeters.

Second shot gets close.  
Third even more so.

Fourth shot hits it's mark dead center and Jesse can't help but let out a yell of triumph.

“Good.” Reyes nods. “But not perfect.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse grimaces and glares at Peacekeeper, almost wanting to blame the gun and not himself. 

He grits his teeth and reloads.

Focus, he tells himself and takes a deep breath.

He fires five rounds on the exhale of his breath – this time they all hit the mark.

“Well, how'd you like me know?” Jesse grins and spins the gun a little clumsily around in his right hand.

“Better,” Reyes nods. “Might even let you tag along next mission.”

A little bit of weigh is lifted off his shoulders at the sound of those words.  
Reyes has his own peculiar little way of showing approval.  
So the words fill him with hope.

He's not useless.  
He's still got a purpose.

The though fills him with joy.

“Here,” Reyes tosses him another round. “Keep it up.”

“Yes Sir,” Jesse laughs and reloads.

Peacekeeper feels a little less alien in his right hand now.

A little less like a battle to wield, and a whole lot more fun to shoot as he once more hits the target.

Jesse smiles to himself.

Of course he can't just quit.  
Overwatch is too much fun.  
It's given him freedom and a purpose.

He's got too many friends to care for in the organisation to simply leave.

Besides, he thinks to himself as he steadies his hand and pulls the trigger, smiling as he only narrowly misses one shot.

'Make way for Jesse McCree' he muttered to himself as he pulled the trigger, glad to catch a glimpse of Reyes' ghost of a smile when he cast a glance behind him.

Someone's got to be the peacekeeper in Blackwatch.


End file.
